She is looking in the mirror, poking, prodding and evaluating.
I can see the look in her eyes; I know what she is thinking.
Her skin, while still healthy, bears an uneven tan with strange tan lines.
There are stretch marks and spider veins scattered across her body.
Her breasts, hips and abdomen are not as firm as they once were.
Her knees, which she has never loved, are even less sightly than before.
Her arms and thighs have lost the tone and muscle of her youth.
Her hair, once a naturally highlighted blond has gotten darker with age, changing into something that can only be described as "brown."
Her eyes are tired, with just a hint of fine lines around the corners.
I met her gaze and I want to shout "Don't you see?"
Don't you see that your body bears a testament to your life, it tells a story?
Don't you see that your uneven tan shows that you have spent the summer working hard outside, playing with your children, planting a garden, living?
Don't you see that those stretch marks, spider veins, and abdomen are the proof that you nurtured and grew two amazing, beautiful children within your own body?
Don't you see that your knees are just the right height for a toddler to hold on to; that you are her anchor in the world?
Don't you see that your arms and thighs are now more suited to hugging, holding and kneeling down to clean a spill or play a game?
Don't you see that I don't care what color your hair is or what dress size you wear? I only want us to have matching hairstyles and dresses that swirl.
Don't you see that those eyes communicate love, hope and security?
Don't you see? Don't you see that I am you?
25 years ago it was you standing there, looking at yourself in the mirror as I watched on. Now it is me. In another 25 years it will be my daughter who I can see out of the corner of my eye.
Then, now and in the future I will silently scream "Please! Don't you see how beautiful you are?"
|Me, with my two amazing, beautiful children|
|My mother, the most beautiful woman I know|